


spill the tea sis

by starsandfluff



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 8x04 is canon, 8x05 is canon for chapter 2 and beyond, Canon Compliant, F/M, Gossip, Sisterly bonding, arya needs someone to knock some sense in her head after 8x04, dead sandor, gendrya is endgame, post battle of king's landing, probably just gonna ignore 8x06, spill that tea, talk about gendrya, talk about sansan, tea time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-03-01 06:03:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18794452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsandfluff/pseuds/starsandfluff
Summary: Arya and Sansa drink tea and talk in Sansa's solar.Takes place after the Battle of King's Landing.





	1. he asked me to marry him

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: i don't own anything  
> this chapter is as of 8x04  
> Arya and Sansa need some quality scenes together. And I love Maisie and Sophie.

Sansa held onto Arya’s waist, helping her into Sansa’s solar. Arya’s leg was still badly injured from the Battle of King’s Landing and she had multiple other pains throughout.

“This is stupid,” Arya said, sitting down to face the window.

“All we’re doing is sitting right now,” Sansa said, bringing over some tea. “and there are some things we need to talk about.”

“No, I’m not talking political with Lady Stark of Winterfell,”

“I didn’t mean that. I had to practically drag you up here to simply drink tea with your sister.”

“Because that’s what ladies do,” Arya whined. “It’s what all of them did in court. Sipped tea, gossipped about stupid stuff, and  _ sewed _ . I’m not a lady, and I refuse to become one of those idiot ladies following their husbands like a puppy!”

“I’d never force you to marry, you know that, right?” Sansa asked seriously, and Arya could hear the pain behind her words.

“I know,” Arya said, staring out at the reconstruction. “you think they need help?”

“You’re injured,”

“So?”

“No.”

“Fine.” Arya said in a tone that made Sansa feel like they were children again and Arya wanted to play with swords rather than embroider with Septa Mordane and the other girls in the castle. But the nostalgia of childhood innocence never lingered for very long, at least for Sansa it didn’t. Sighing, she watched her sister’s unreadable face stare out the window. Sansa had learned the Game of Thrones, she had learned how to read people, and yet Arya was a mystery. She too could sense people’s thoughts and emotions and lies, but it didn’t seem the same.

“How are you—”

“He asked me to marry him,” Sansa choked on her tea, quickly grabbing a napkin to wipe up the mess. But Arya seemed unfazed by it, still watching the workers reconstruct their childhood home. “Gendry did, after the battle and the feast and the legitimization.”

“I knew you two were … involved, but I didn’t know you wanted to marry him,”

“I don’t. I mean I don’t know, I … I said no.”

“Why?”

“He’s the Lord of Storm’s End, Sansa, he wanted me to be his lady. I’ll never be a lady, I’ll never be able to tolerate weeks cooped up in a castle having to do all that ladylike bullshit you do. I don’t know if I want kids, if I even can have kids, and he needs heirs. I’m never going to enough for that role, for what he wants.” Arya looked like she was going to cry. She felt like she was back in that cave with the Brotherhood.  _ “I can be your family.”  _ She had meant every word with every fiber of her being.  _ “You wouldn’t be family, you’d be m’lady.” _ But she’s not a lady, that’s not her.

“I don’t think he meant that,” Sansa replied after a period of silence between the two.

“You don’t know anything about this,”

“But I know  _ you _ . And I’m not blind, Arya, I’ve seen the way he looks at you, how concerned he is about you, how you look at him.”

“But that’s not it!” Arya said, frustrated, but not with Sansa. “It’s always been all that ‘lady’ shit, it’s always been about him thinking he’s ‘too bloody lowborn’ for me. And he’s always wanted this. He should have it, and I can’t give him this, I can’t be a lady.”

“Arya—”

“Sansa, don’t—”

“No,” Sansa said firmly. “seven hells, Arya, sometimes you can be such a child. Do you really think that’s all I do? That I don’t have any freedom? That I don’t talk to the smallfolk? That I keep myself chained to this castle—”

“But you don’t have a husband, a lord—”

“And that doesn’t mean anything, not to Lord Baratheon at least. He looks at you like you’re the only good thing in this awful world, he’ll never lock you up in some castle like a pretty, little bird, he would give you the whole world if that was possible. Talk to him, at least, tell him why you said what you said. If you still don’t want to marry him, that’s fine, do what you want, but give yourselves some closure and understanding. Don’t let the possibilities haunt you.”

“Okay,”

“Okay?”

“Well, what do you want me to say? I’m not going to up and ride to Storm’s End right now.”

“I wouldn’t want you to, you need to rest. And drink tea with me.” Sansa smiled, playfully and genuinely, and Arya laughed, quietly.  _ I wish she was able to smile more. _ Arya thought.  _ I hope he’ll make her laugh like that more. _ Sansa thought. Together they sat in the solar, drinking tea in content silence and watching the walls rise in front of them.


	2. remembrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Arya talk about Arya's connection to revenge and family as well as remember their pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i was totally planning to have them talk about sandor (after 8x05 even tho I was going to have him die anyway) but this kind of just happened and i totally didn't edit this so i hope it's not totally boring. but i promise the next chapter will be sandor-centric.

“He wanted a life for me. I don’t know what I would have become if he hadn’t stopped me.” Arya said, pain and grief slightly cracking through her usually cold exterior.

“Stopped you?” Sansa asked, pouring a cup of tea for Arya and herself. It was early in the morning, but both sisters had already been awake; Sansa did her daily duties as Lady of Winterfell while Arya sparred with Brienne and Podrick.

“I was going to kill the queen,” Arya said, maintaining a neutral expression. Sansa loved her sister even if she could be quite strange and distant.  _ I know nothing of the tragedies she has faced over the years _ . Sansa thought.

“I wish I could have been there to see Cersei killed,” Sansa mused, a quiet smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “you said he stopped you. What happened down there?”

“Revenge,” Arya said, looking down.

“What?”

“I’ve always wanted revenge. It was what kept me going, the list, I mean,”

“That’s not true,” Sansa said, locking eyes with Arya. “you came back, back home. Unless you were planning to kill me or Bran, that wasn’t about revenge. You aren’t some monster, Arya.”

“I know that,” Arya wasn’t looking at Sansa anymore.

“Do you? Look at me, Arya,” Arya met her sister’s eyes.  _ “LOOK AT ME! You want to be like me?”  _ Sandor’s words—their parting words—echoed in her head. She hadn’t wanted him to die. Not for awhile at least. But he was dead, just like everyone else she cared about.  _ Not everyone, _ Arya reminded herself.  _ not you, not Sansa, not Jon, not Bran, … not Gendry. _ “you choose family. You’ve always been the one going on about packs and family and defending Jon when we were younger. And Lord Gendry ... You have not always been about revenge. Well, I mean you did put sheep dung in my bed, but you know what I mean.”

“Family, yes,” Arya said, laughing quietly.  _ “I can be your family” _   She had always wanted to go back to Winterfell, or to reunite with her mother and Robb, or to go to Jon at the Wall, or run away with Gendry, or once again go back to Winterfell the moment she heard Jon had got it back from the Boltons.  _ Sansa got it back with the Knights of the Vale.  _ Arya reminded herself. She had always wanted to protect her pack. “the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.”

“If only father could see us now, mother and Robb and Rickon…” Sansa said, and Arya nodded silently in remembrance. The two sat there in silence, sipping their tea in the early morning sun, in bittersweet contentedness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading and next chapter will be up soon hopefully and sandor-centric!


	3. i wish...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya and Sansa share their stories of Sandor over tea and lemon cakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I actually wrote it! Last chapter was supposed to be this, but i kinda got distracted from that topic lol. I'm not all that experienced with grief, so I hope I wrote this okay. The characterization is a little weird, but I tried my best. There are a lot of references to the books, which I have not actually read (i hope the ASoIaF wiki is correct). I'm not actually all that invested in SanSan, but I heard about this imagined kiss and how a lot of shippers come from the books so I thought I'd try and take it from that angle. Hope you enjoy!

“I wish…” Arya trailed off, staring sadly out the window of Sansa’s solar.

“Hm?” Sansa said, carrying over a tray of tea and lemon cakes. Her eyes subtly looked Arya up and down, but Arya could see the action, silently checking up on Arya had become almost instinctive for Sansa.

“I don’t know,”

“That’s a first,” Arya chuckled quietly, and the two smiled at each other.

“I wish he could have been here to see me … to see me choosing, well, choosing life. I mean,” Arya face scrunched up and she looked down as she struggled to put her her feelings into words. “why did he he have to go on and get himself killed getting revenge on the Mountain, why couldn’t  _ he _ choose life?” Arya breathed a heavy sigh, having said that all in one breath.

“Sandor … he was driven by hate, and we both knew of his hatred of his brother, how he actually got that burn,” Sansa replied, slightly surprised by Arya’s affection for Sandor as she had never known them to be close.

“So? He could have killed him any time when we were in King’s Landing. And hate wasn’t the only thing that drove him, he protected both of us,” Arya angrily bit into a lemon cake, and Sansa suppressed her laughter at the sight. It reminded Sansa of Arya as a child, furiously stabbing at the table or flinging pie at her from across the room. Sansa smiled sadly at her moment of nostalgia.

“Sandor never would have been able to come back to us, he was much too far gone,” Sansa said after some time.

“Us?” Arya said, completely disregarding everything else Sansa had said.

“And I thought you and I noticed everything that goes on within these castle walls,” Sansa said, a small smile playing on her lips. “Well, I guess you were a bit distracted,” Arya’s eyes widened ever so subtly at the comment. Arya seemed to sink herself into her tea, doing her best to hide the deepening blush on her cheeks. She closed her eyes, regaining her composure.  _ Calm as still water, _ Arya reminded herself.  _ even when drinking tea with Sansa. _

“Did he return your affections?” Arya said, her voice as composed as it was when playing the Game of Faces with the Waif, that stupid cunt.

“Arya!” Sansa exclaimed, it was her turn to blush uncomfortably.

“Well?”

“There weren’t ‘affections,’ he protected me in King’s Landing,”

“I’ve heard as much, he protected me as well,” Arya said, her eyes piercing Sansa’s. “still, you lie, a sad, little lie.”

“We talked at the feast, which the honored guest so adamantly refused to attend,” Sansa said, and Arya could almost hear Catelyn’s disappointment in her voice. 

“Yes, you talked. But there is more you have not said,”

“Arya, why are we—”

“You’re avoiding the question,  _ Little Bird _ ,” The Hound had called Sansa a little bird when he told Arya that he protected her. But Sansa obviously did not know this, which was the cause of an unfortunate lemon cake incident. This incident had to do with Sansa having been about to swallow a bite of lemon cake at the exact moment Arya reminded her of the nickname. Arya calmly helped Sansa wipe up the mess afterwards, but Sansa was an embarrassed wreck—surprising as Lady Stark and a master player of the Game of Thrones.

“The Battle of the Blackwater,” Sansa said, after downing a large sip of tea. “he offered to take me home, to Winterfell. It all happened so fast, with the dagger and the song and all, but I can still remember his cruel mouth upon mine—”

“Sandor fucking Clegane did not kiss you, Sansa,” Arya said with the confidence of Joffrey, the Waif, and the Mountain combined.

“Arya, I was there—”

“He did not kiss you, Sansa. I’m not just saying this because I have common sense, he told me of that night, years ago when he lay dying. Sure, you sang him a song, but you never kissed the bloody Hound,” Sansa looked down, her mind racing.  _ “You won’t hurt me.” “No, Little Bird, I won’t hurt you.”  _

“I spoke to him before he left for King’s Landing,” Sansa said quietly, still looking down into the folds of her newest dress. “I said I’d pray for his return, though we both knew that was a lie. I told him maybe I’d actually sing the song of Florian and Jonquil for him—he laughed—and then he was gone,”

“That’s not true, there’s more isn’t there. Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you!” Sansa said defensively. “It’s just … I don’t know how to talk about this. It’s not like you and Gendry, you’re going to ride down to Storm’s End within the next moon, Sandor’s dead. Gone.” It pained Arya to see tears well up in her sister’s eyes. She wished so badly to erase what had been done to Sansa, to take that pain and tragedy from her.

“... Here,” Arya handed Sansa the last lemon cake and Sansa smiled, looking at her sister with amusement.

“Before he left, he grabbed my hand, without gloves—”

“How improper! No gloves! … I’m sorry, go on,” Arya said, trying to hide her smile.

“Sandor looked me in the eye, and told me he wasn’t coming back, that he was sorry he’d never get to hear the song. He told me that Littlefinger and Ramsay and the rest didn’t make me strong, that I was already strong. Then he said, ‘Goodbye, Little Bird,’ and left,”

“You’re the strongest person I know,” Arya said, echoing the sentiment Sansa had said moons ago. But Sansa didn’t smile, she simply looked out window and wondered if she’d ever find a way to love someone like that again, after everything that had happened to her. Or if her knight in shining armor had died in the fires of King’s Landing along with the memory of a kiss—or rather, an UnKiss.

“Why do you care what happened to him?” Sansa meant the question as simply curiosity, but it came out in a harsher tone than she intended.

“We travelled together,” Arya replied, casually dismissing Sansa’s biting tone.

“That’s it?”

“Well, we didn’t kiss,” Sansa laughed before her features were once again painted with grief. “he protected me and watched over me. I didn’t look at him the way you do, that’s for sure,”

“He cared about you,” It was more of a statement than a question, Sansa already knew about what happened between Arya and Sandor in King’s Landing.

“I guess he did,”

“He loved you—as a daughter, I mean,”

“Well, I wouldn’t say—”

“You don’t know anything about being a mother, Arya. He loved you, as much as Sandor was capable of at least,” Arya nodded, but she paid little attention to her sister. Her thoughts were of Weasel and her matted hair, of Lady Crane and her soft touch, and of Lady Smallwood and an acorn dress. She wondered what had happened to Weasel, if she had successfully run off and if she still had the habit of eating mud. She wondered who had discovered Lady Crane’s body, or if it was left rotting in her home. She wondered if Lady Smallwood had to fix the tears she made in her acorn dress, or if the lady simply threw it away.  _ Maybe I could be a mother, _ Arya thought.

“Do you regret not saying anything more to him?” Arya asked, taking a sip from the now-cold tea.

“I don’t think so, no,"

“But don’t you wish he could have changed?”

“He did change, Arya. That cruel killer that rode down your butcher’s boy—”

“—Mycah,”

“That’s not the man who went beyond the wall, who fought the dead, and who fought for you. He changed, as much as he could,”

“I don’t know who to look up to anymore,” Arya said half-jokingly, turning to face the setting sun.

“Well, you still kind of have to look up at everyone, really,” Arya looked at Sansa with playful annoyance. “I mean, you already look at Brienne like that, and Davos may as well be Lord Baratheon’s father,” Arya laughed at Sansa’s last comment, and Sansa smiled as she finished the last lemon cake. They sat there watching the sun set and the room fade into only candlelight, and they talked and laughed and grieved, but they did so together. Somewhere, Arya hoped, Sandor would be proud of the path they chose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this wasn't too OOC and thanks for reading! I just had to mention Sansa being strong is not purely because of her abusers because I really didn't like that line in the show. Next chapter will probably be about Arya's scars (because somebody needed to talk about that) and it will definitely come out after 8x06. I'm probably just going to ignore 8x06 completely but everything else is canon. I don't know what other big topics I can have Sansa and Arya talk about besides her scars. I might have them talk about the House of Black and White. I don't think I'll talk about Ramsay since I just don't think I'd be able to write it well. I'll definitely do a chapter set far into the future where gendrya happens. If you guys have any other ideas for them to talk about, please comment below!


	4. someday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Arya drink tea and talk about Arya's scars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I procrastinated on this for a while. Now that I've written it, it wasn't such a hard topic to write. I'll probably write a Gendry and Arya talk about her scars, but that'll probably be a one-shot or in "the aches that linger afterwards." I'm keeping Arya pretty injured purely as an excuse to keep her from going the Storm's End. Sansa's storyline feels much too hard to write at this point, I just have no idea how to talk about any of it. Sorry about the wait, I do have more time to write now the finals and school are over, so I hope the next chapter will come out sooner. I really hope you enjoy!

"Fuck!" Arya shouted, feeling a sharp pain in her injured leg. She dug her nails into her palms to keep from screaming in pain.

"Hey," Sansa said, taking Arya's hands in hers. "don't hurt yourself,"

"Why is it taking so long?" Arya complained.

"I see you haven't grown out of your impatience," Sansa helped Arya into her chair, ignoring her childish glare. "You'll heal, Maester Wolkan has assured you time and time again. Is there such a rush to leave me? You already send Lord Baratheon a letter,"

"Right," _That letter, that fucking letter._ Arya thought. _What had it said anyway? It fit on that tiny raven scroll. Just something about arriving within the next moon and how fucking annoying this gash in my leg is—Maester Wolkan probably wasn't amused by that._ “I’ll get there, someday,”

"So, are you ever going to tell me?" Sansa asked, handing a cup of tea to Arya.

"Tell you what?" Arya cocked her head to the side.

"You said you didn't know if you _could_ have children,"

"Seven hells, Sansa, that was a week ago,"

"And?"

"Well," Arya looked down, her mouth slightly open as if the words were stuck on her tongue. She didn’t know how to explain to Sansa that she almost left everything behind to become No One. But maybe she didn't have to explain anything, not yet at least.

"Arya, what are you doing?" Sansa said, watching Arya slowly lift up her shirt, still not meeting Sansa's eyes. Arya revealed the scars the Waif had left just above her hips. "Gods, Arya, what happened to you?"

"We've both gone through a lot to get here. I'd never ask you to lift your dress," Sansa nodded, then looked back to Arya’s scars.

"That one," Sansa said, gesturing to one. "why does it look so much worse than the others?"

"Still asking the questions, huh?"

"Arya," Sansa said in a serious, yet delicate tone, trying not to push Arya. She knew Arya would never force her to talk about her own traumas.

"Aye, she enjoyed twisting the knife in that one,"

"She? Who did this to you?" Sansa looked Arya in the eye, and Arya stared back with an unreadable expression. Anger burned in Sansa’s eyes. It didn’t matter that Arya killed the Night King, Arya was still her _little sister_ , and someone had almost killed her.

"Doesn't matter, she's dead now. Killed her a bit more cleanly than Ser Meryn." Arya took a sip from her cup, a bit surprised Sansa didn’t comment on her murder of Ser Meryn Trant. "A lot of things happened in Braavos, in the time we were apart,"

"Wait, you were in Essos?” _I really don’t know what she’s been through,_ Sansa thought.

"It was after Sandor. I was going to go to the Wall, to Jon, but the captain wouldn't go north,"

"Why Braavos?”

"Jaq—” Arya stopped herself. She wasn’t sure where to start, what to say. “That’s a story for another day,”

“Mhm,” Sansa took a sip from her own cup, her hands fidgeting with the folds of her dress. She didn’t expect Arya to open up and tell her everything that had happened over the last seven years. Someday they’d talk, though. Someday, Sansa would know her strange sister again. “What happened with the stab wounds? Did you … like, did you find some maester in Braavos?”

“I…” _Lady Crane,_ Arya thought. _She was kind, funny, and smart. And she died because of me._ “a, a friend helped me. Lady Crane was a great actress, she was the one who sewed up my wounds. She was good at it. Too bad jumping off a wall and rolling down stairs doesn’t help, but it stopped bleeding pretty quickly,”

“This Lady Crane, you said ‘was,’ what happened to her?”

“She died,” _Because of me._ Arya added silently. _They were going to kill_ me _. I saved her only to have her die a more painful death._

“I’m sorry,” Sansa said. “how did you befriend her? I mean, you make friends with everyone, but,”

“I was watching her play, for the third time that week. She found me backstage,” Arya didn’t mention what the play was about or the whole poison thing.

“Well, anyway, you shouldn’t blame yourself for it,” _They were going to kill her anyway, somehow. Could I even save her if I’d been awake?_ Arya thought. “I doubt you were in any state to stop it,”

“Right,”

“Are you okay?”

“Still can’t fucking walk properly,” Sansa chuckled. She looked at Arya, but Arya was looking out the window. Even with the rebuilding of Winterfell, they both knew it would never feel the same. But there was no way to go back, to go back to a day when Sansa and Arya would bicker over something small, when Bran and Arya and RIckon would chase each other throughout the courtyard, when Jon and Theon and Robb would laugh at them run, when their mother and father would watch from above, when the biggest thing Sansa had to worry about was Arya sheepshifting her bed. Those days were gone. Their mother, father, Robb, Theon, and Rickon were gone. But they survived, they were together. _The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives._

“We’ll heal,” Sansa said, placing her hand on top of Arya’s.

“Someday,”

“Someday,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I know a lot of that was about Lady Crane, but I just really loved her, even if she was only there for like 3 or 4 episodes. I don't have a plan for the next chapter, maybe it'll be about the House of Black and White, or maybe I'll write that another day. If you have any topic you want me to have them talk about, please comment it, and, if it's not too difficult, I'll do my best to write it. I really want to write something a bit more Sansa-centric, but I'm just having a lot of trouble trying to find a subject I would know how to approach. Maybe something about Cersei or Tyrion or Shae in King's Landing? I don't know if I'll ever write about Ramsay, but maybe Littlefinger. Anyway, thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed!


	5. king's landing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa tells Arya about certain people in King's Landing over tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I finally got the courage to write something more Sansa-centric and it was really fun to write. I focus more on characters that affected her than specific events that happened in KL. I hope you all enjoy this new chapter, sorry I procrastinated on it by writing gendrya one-shots!

“Did you hear about Pod?” Arya asked as Sansa poured tea for the two of them. It was late in the evening, but they’d both had a long day and it was nice to be in each other’s company. Arya had always liked the quiet of the night, and Sansa was used to working late hours as a lady and a queen.

“Yes, Beth told me she was with child this morning. After everything she went through with her father and the Dreadfort, it’s nice to see her excited about something. And Ser Podrick is smitten with her,” Sansa replied.

“I know, he never shuts up about ‘his love, Beth Cassel,’ practically dragged me to his wedding. He’ll be a wonderful father, children love him,”

“I was never like you when we were children,”  _ We never would have talked like this.  _ Sansa thought.  _ We were too different, too young and immature. _

“Obviously,” Arya said.

“Arya,” Sansa looked at her with a serious expression. “I mean, you made friends with everyone, with Jon and Mycah and Gendry and all,”  _ And Jaqen and Sandor and Lady Crane and Tywin and the rest.  _ Arya listed out in her head, she’d started making lists in her head after she’d let go of her List. Arya made lists of what she had to do that day, who she saw, what she ate, and everything in between. Something to distract her from the emptiness she felt in her chest, a hole in her heart that could never be filled, not by Gendry or Sansa or Jon or Bran. Arya had lost too much. But she still had family, the pack survived. And everyday she had something to look forward to.

“You didn’t have anyone in King’s Landing?” Arya asked, surprised.  _ How did you ever survive that shithole?  _ Arya thought.

“I had one true friend in King’s Landing,” Sansa stated plainly.  _ Shae was the only one there for me. I wouldn’t have survived without her.  _ Sansa thought.

“Tyrion?”

“Lord Tyrion has always been a decent man, but he was no companion for me at four-and-ten. Now, he’s a good friend and great Hand of the King, but not then,” 

“What happened to your friend?” Arya asked.

“I wish I’d known what happened to her, but after I fled Joffrey’s wedding I never saw Shae again,” 

“Shae was your…?”

“Handmaiden, not a good one at that, but she always protected me, she always cared about me. When I flowered she did her best to stop anyone from knowing. When Littlefinger spoke to me, she warned me about him. After Robb and mother…” Sansa cleared her throat, and glanced at Arya who was looking down. Sansa didn’t know that Arya was there at the Red Wedding, and Arya was too busy trying not to cry to tell her. “She was kind. That’s more than I can say for many in King’s Landing,”

“Didn’t Sandor protect you?” Arya asked, looking up at Sansa.

“He was the Hound then, Joffrey’s dog, you should know that,” 

“Sandor changed,”  _ He cared about me.  _ Arya thought sadly.

“He did,”  _ And he died.  _ Sansa added in her head.

“I was a naive child, a plaything for Joffrey and Cersei. I’m a slow learner, but I learned the ways of King’s Landing and how to play the Game. I learned a great deal from Cersei and Littlefinger,”  _ ‘Call me Petyr,’ he’d say.  _ Sansa thought.  _ ‘I’ll protect you,’ he said. Lying bastard. _

“Littlefinger was a cunt,” Arya said, wrinkling her nose at the mention of his name.

“Arya!” Sansa exclaimed, but Arya ignored her.  _ I can speak how I like, in front of Sansa at least.  _ Arya thought.  _ It annoys her anyway. _

“You looked up to Cersei, in a way,” Arya said.

“I did, I know she had that mask of politeness everyone has in King’s Landing, but I think pitied me,”  _ I was so young and stupid, all of that got beaten out eventually.  _ Sansa thought, wincing internally at the memories.

“She pitied you? Didn’t Cersei torment you?”

“Well, yes, I’m not denying she was a monster, I’m just saying she was a person, a mother. Cersei was horrible to me, I was a ‘little dove’ to her, but I was still just like her. In a foreign land, off to marry an awful man,”

“I wouldn’t call Joffrey a man,” Arya said, and Sansa laughed.  _ I hope Shae made her laugh like that.  _ Arya thought.  _ Joffrey certainly didn’t. _

“She told me of bleeding, of childbirth, of children, of all the horrors and good a queen would face, a man’s queen. Cersei was Robert’s and I would have been Joffrey’s,” Sansa said, reminiscing.  _ I never would have wanted that.  _ Arya thought.  _ But it’s different now, Gendry’s different, I’ll never belong to him. I love him, but he would never force me to do anything, to be anything else. _

“You’re a good queen now, Sansa,” Arya assured her.

“I would hope so,”

“Shae, she was it? There was no one else, I mean, I know you were awful—”

“Hey!” Sansa said, looking at Arya with mock offense.

“I’m kidding,”

“No, you’re not. I was awful,”

“Jeyne was worse,” Arya said.  _ Arya Horseface.  _ Arya thought.  _ I never forgot that, it was just who I was. But he thinks I’m beautiful.  _ She smiled to herself, not quite believing what he’d said to her that night.

“Myrcella and Tommen were good children. The princess was a perfect little lady, who loved dresses and dolls,”

“Just like you,”

“That was before. Before father. We could have been friends, but she was such an innocent child. And Tommen, I remember him and Bran playing with wooden swords in the Winterfell courtyard, he was just a child then too. Sure, they were sweet and tried to be kind, but they were sweet, summer children and I was grieving,” Sansa said.

“Tommen was kind, he would have been a good king if he’d been taught how,” Arya said, thinking of all the stories she’d heard about his short reign.

“There was another, I’m sure we could have been the best of friends if I hadn’t left. I used to wish she was my sister instead of you,” Sansa said.  _ “We would be sisters, you and I. Would you like that?”  _ Margaery had said to her. Marrying Loras used to be her dream life before Sansa learned what the real world was like.

“Oh,” Arya said, sounding a bit dejected.  _ She never wanted me when we were little.  _ Arya thought.  _ But we changed. _

“Don’t say that,” Sansa said.

“I didn’t say anything,”

“Exactly, don’t just accept it,”

“What are you talking about?”

“That was a long time ago. You’re my sister, Arya, and I love you for you are, as strange as you seem to me,” Sansa said, taking Arya’s hand in hers, and squeezing it tightly. 

“I love you too, even if you can be a pain in the arse,”

“Arya,” Sansa said, shaking her head, unable to hide a smile.

“What was she like?”

“Margaery was a queen, a Tyrell rose. She took me under her wing, she wanted a good life for me, but she understood what life was like for ladies. Though I did flee  _ her _ wedding. Margaery was kind and pretty and perfect, she was different,” Sansa smiled sadly.

“She died in the Sept of Baelor,”

“I heard. A cruel thing, a terrible thing, but Cersei  _ would  _ be the one,”  _ Cersei would.  _ Arya agreed in her head.

“But it’s over now. Cersei’s dead. You’re not trapped in King’s Landing, you’re not a ‘little dove’ anymore, you’re a She-Wolf,” Arya said.

“I don’t always feel like it,”

“I don’t always feel like Arya, now that I’ve given up revenge,”  _ After trying to be No One for so long. I don’t know if I know how to be Arya anymore.  _ Arya added in her head. She wasn’t ready to tell Sansa about the House of Black and White, not yet.

“You’re Arya Stark, you always will be, I won’t let you stop being human,”

“And you’re Sansa Stark, the Lady of Winterfell and Queen of the North,”

“We made it,” Sansa said, taking a sip of her tea.

“Somehow,” Arya agreed.

“Soon you’ll be Lady Baratheon of Storm’s End,” Arya, her little sister, was going to be the Lady of Storm’s End. Not a conventional lady at that, she’d actually have things to do, and she’d fight, but a lady. And Sansa was so proud of her.

“Stark,” Arya corrected her. “I’ll always be a Stark,” “ _ A girl is Arya Stark of Winterfell, and I’m going home.”  _ Arya had said. Winterfell was home, but so was Gendry. Storm’s End  _ and  _ Winterfell could be her home. This time she wasn’t at a crossroads. This time she didn’t have to choose. She could be a Stark in the Stormlands, with Gendry.

“Okay, Lady Stark,” Sansa said.

“And I’ll kill whoever calls me Lady Stark,” 

“Arya!” Sansa exclaimed, though she knew her sister was making an idle threat.

“You’ll always be the real Lady Stark,” Arya said, and Sansa smiled at her.

“You’ll be a good lady, you were always better than me at managing a household,”

“You learned, and I’ll still write and visit to ask you questions and help me not stab the other lords and ladies,”

“This isn’t goodbye,” Sansa said.

“No, never,” Arya agreed, smirking. “And you’re much better at making friends now, I think I might have to use my other hand to count them,”

“Shut up,” Sansa said, and Arya laughed. They both had found their way out of King’s Landing. And they had so much to look forward to now, including talking to each other over tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That took a lot of work and was a lot longer than I expected, but I'm so glad I wrote it! The feedback on this fic is so encouraging, thank you so much! I do think I'm going to have a chapter where they talk about Sansa's experience with Littlefinger and his death, but maybe not next chapter. Also the HoBaW at one point. I'm not really sure what next chapter will be, maybe about Arya's list or Harrenhal or the Brotherhood or being at the Red Wedding. Anyway, this was so fun, I hope you liked this longer chapter!


	6. direwolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya and Sansa talk about their direwolves, Lady and Nymeria, and Arya's upcoming journey to Storm's End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, here's a short little chapter I wrote out in one day! I don't know where the idea of having Arya and Sansa talk about Lady's death in s1e2 and Arya's reunion with Nymeria in s7, but here you go, it was a smaller idea that was much easier for me to tackle. I've been struggling with motivation to write, but I still enjoyed writing for this little idea, I really hope you enjoy reading!

“Has Jon written recently?” Arya asked, stuffing a piece of bread in her mouth making Sansa stare at her oddly.

“No, but do you remember that pawprint on his last letter? I can’t believe Ghost survived the battle, against the dead and all,” Sansa said, cutting her salted pork with elegance, unlike Arya who was unashamedly giving into her hunger.

“I can’t believe we survived,”

“Thanks to you, we did,” Arya blushed, still not used to the praise.  _ I just stuck him with the pointy end.  _ Arya thought. Sansa smiled at her sister proudly, but Arya was looking down, her face twisted in an unreadable expression.  _ Ghost, Grey Wind, Summer, Shaggydog, Nymeria, and Lady.  _ Arya listed out the names of their direwolves.

“I’m sorry about Lady, Sansa,” Arya said after a while.

“I know, but you were right there with me, begging for her life, you did everything you could. And that was a long time ago, Arya, you were only one-and-ten,”  _ Why is she bringing this up now, that was years ago?  _ Sansa thought.

“I know, but will you forgive me?”

“Arya—”

“Forgive me,” Arya demanded.

“I forgive you,”  _ She sounds just like her old self, save the apologizing part.  _ Sansa thought.  _ She sounded so different and distant when she first came back. Maybe Gendry really is the key to her heart.  _ “And it’s not like you could have controlled what happened, Nymeria ran away,”

“But I could have,” Arya insisted. Piece by piece she had built herself up again as Arya Stark, trying to find and hold onto some semblance of humanity. But with reuniting with Jon and Gendry and Sandor, feelings came rushing back into her, guilt included.

“What?”

“After I left you two, I made Nymeria ran away, I threw a stone at her. I wanted her to live,”

“And there’s no shame in wanting your direwolf alive. It’s too bad she’s not around anymore,”

“She is,” Arya said. “Nymeria came up to me in the Riverlands on my way here, surrounded by her pack,”

“Why didn’t you take her with you?” Sansa asked, only slightly concerned at the prospect of a giant direwolf with a huge pack of wolves running throughout the Riverlands.

“That’s not her,” Arya replied. _“That’s not you.”_ She had realized that day. Nymeria was never meant to be locked up or stuck in some castle, she was meant to be with her pack, free. “A direwolf’s no pet,”

“You’re listening to the advice of that drunk king?”

“You think Robert was worse than all those other kings?”

“Well, I guess that’s true. He did bring seventeen years of peace, with Jon Arryn doing all the work,” Sansa said, trying to block out the memories of the War of the Five Kings, of Robb and her mother.

“You’ll be a much better queen,”  _ You’re Sansa Stark, Queen of the North. King Robert was nothing compared to you.  _ Arya thought.

“Well I don’t plan on spending my life drinking and whoring my way around the North,”  _ Though I guess some good did come from King Robert’s many bastards.  _ Sansa thought.  _ My strange little sister fell in love with one. _

“I don’t really see that happening either,” Arya said, and Sansa nodded in agreement, she wasn’t even sure if she’d marry ever again. Her childhood dreams of marrying a prince and becoming queen were long gone, Sansa was queen in her own right.

“You might run into your direwolf on the way to Storm’s End,”

“I might,”

“She found her pack and you’ve found yours. Well, almost, once your leg and everything is healed,”  _ And then you’ll leave me.  _ Sansa thought, smiling sadly.  _ I’ll just be here, cold and alone. _

“I’ve already found my pack, with you and Jon and Bran,” Arya said.

“The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives,”

“You won’t be alone here, right? You’ll have Brienne and Pod in your Queensguard to keep you company. And me and Jon and Bran will visit and write all the time,” Arya assured her.  _ I won’t be alone.  _ Sansa repeated to herself.

“You’ll need a break from Gendry that soon?” Sansa teased, and Arya threw a crust of bread at her.  _ Of course she wouldn’t miss.  _ Sansa thought, wiping the crumbs off her dress.  _ At least it wasn’t pie this time. _

“I can bring him with me,” Arya said. “And I’ll need a break from all the lords and ladies in the Stormlands, I can come back here to complain to you,”

“I can’t wait,” Sansa said sarcastically.

“Shut up,”

“I’m joking, you have to visit, I’ll demand it of you,”

“Oh, how very queenlike of you to say, Sansa,”

“And how ladylike of you to mock,” Sansa said, and Arya smiled.  _ “Well, that was unladylike.”  _ Gendry had said to her after she’d shoved him for calling her ‘m’lady.’

“Don’t forget to write me of our dear cousin Robin’s failed courting attempts,”  _ He may look less sickly now, and Lord Royce has done his best, but he’s still a royal prick.  _ Sansa thought.

“I would never forget,” Sansa laughed, and Arya joined her. They would miss moments like these, laughing together over supper about little things. Ink and paper could never replace those. But Arya wasn’t leaving forever, Sansa told herself, she’ll be back, out of the blue probably.  _ I’ll be back.  _ Arya thought.  _ I could never leave Winterfell forever. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I do hope the next chapter will tackle something a bit bigger, maybe the Red Wedding or the HoBaW or Arya's list or Sansa's marriages (excluding Ramsay, i want to make a whole chapter for him if i ever figure out how to write about that) or Littlefinger and the Vale idk, I'll figure it out lol. I really hope you liked this chapter, the feedback has been SO encouraging!


	7. red wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Arya talk about the people they've lost. Arya tells Sansa about being at the Red Wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to post this, but it is a longer chapter than usual (not that they're ever that long). Hope you enjoy and I hope I'll post the next chapter sooner once I figure out what it's about!

“Mother would have been so proud of you,” Sansa said, smiling at her sister proudly. She handed her a mug of ale, which Arya downed quickly. The two of them both had a long and tedious day of writing and talking and riding and sparring, it was nice to sit down in the quiet solar together.  _ She and Sandor really are alike.  _ Sansa thought, watching Arya drink.

“What are you talking about?  _ You’re _ the Queen in the North.” Arya said.  _ Why would Mother ever be proud of me? I’m doing the exact opposite of what she would have wanted.  _ Arya thought, rejecting even the possibility.

“She could be proud of both of us, Arya,”

“Why would she be proud of me?”

“Maybe because you literally saved the entire world and are going to be the Lady of Storm’s End. She’d be proud,” Sansa assured her.  _ Of Arya, not Lady Arya.  _ Sansa corrected herself. “Not because you’ll be some proper lady or something, but you know what I mean,”

“Are you sure?” Arya asked.  _ That sounds hard to believe.  _ She thought.

“Just because you could be awful sometimes doesn’t mean she didn’t love you, that she wasn’t proud to have you as her daughter,” Arya smiled. “I’m certainly proud to have you as my sister, strangeness and all.”

“Thank you, Sansa,” Arya said, laughing.  _ Strange, that’s one word for a killer.  _ Arya thought.  _ I wish Mother was here. She’d know what to do in all this aftermath of the war.  _ She thought, gazing out the window. “I miss her. I miss all of them, really. Winterfell doesn’t feel the same without everyone, I don’t think it ever will.”

“I wish—” Sansa paused, taking a deep breath. “I didn’t even get to grieve, Arya. Father, Mother, and Robb all gone and I had to sit there and act like I was pleased that these traitors were dead. And he laughed, Joffrey  _ laughed _ .”

“I’m sorry,” Arya leaned forward to give Sansa a hug.

“None of us got to say goodbye, we didn’t even get to  _ see _ them before it,” Sansa said.

“I know. It’s shit, that’s what it is, but it’s the way the world works.” Arya sighed.  _ “There’s plenty worse than me, I just understand the way things are. How many Starks they got to behead before you figure it out?”  _ Sandor had said to her.  _ Two apparently. And so many other people I cared about. You included, Sandor.  _ Arya thought.

“We both learned that lesson pretty early,” Sansa said.

“Too early. The last time I’d seen Rickon was when we left Winterfell for King’s Landing,” _That was it. A little hug goodbye, and six years later I came back and he’s gone. It’s like he just disappeared._ Arya thought. “How did it happen, Sansa? How did he die?”

“Arya, you don’t—”

“Jon won’t talk about it, so tell me. I want to know, I really do,” Arya looked at Sansa sternly. She took a deep breath, her features softening as she held back tears.  _ She really wants to know.  _ Sansa thought.  _ This is going to hurt her. But Rickon’s already gone and I’m sure she’s seen much worse.  _ “Tell me how our little brother died.”

“It was at the beginning of the Battle of the Bastards,” Sansa said, wincing at the memory.  _ Ramsay’s dead, gone.  _ She reminded herself, trying to ignore the ghosts of painful memories on—in—her body. “Ramsay had already told us he was a hostage, I knew that meant certain death no matter what, but Jon was still hopeful.”

“He’s an idiot.”  _ And he died for it. Just like Father.  _ Arya thought.

“Ramsay...he liked to play with his food. He let Rickon run towards Jon, and Jon rode towards him. Like a race, a game,” Sansa took a deep breath and looked into her sister’s eyes. “And then he shot him.”

“Thank you,” Arya said after a moment. She wiped away the tears on her cheeks and smiled at Sansa. “for telling me that,”

“None of us could have done anything, Arya, for any of them. Not for Father, Mother, Robb, or Rickon. I wish I could have done something but—”

“I tried.” Arya said, looking down.

“What?”

“Sandor stopped me, obviously, I wouldn’t be alive if I had marched in there.”

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Sansa asked.

“Robb and Mother, that whole Red Wedding and all.”

“You—you were there?”  _ What in Seven hells were you doing there?  _ Sansa thought, feeling very protective all of a sudden.

“I told you that was where Sandor was taking me,” Arya stated plainly.

“I never knew that you’d made it there,”

“Oh, well, we did.” Arya said.  _ Oh, well, then.  _ Sansa thought sarcastically.  _ You didn’t think telling me that you were there when Robb and Mother died was a little important?! No, it’s fine, we’re reconnecting, getting to know each other again, this kind of thing is going to happen. _

“What happened?” Sansa asked calmly.

“They were killed, our family, our soldiers,” Arya said, hazy memories of that night flashed in her mind.  _ “It’s over.”  _ He had said. “Slaughtered, really.”

“I mean—”

“I know what you meant, stupid. We got there too late, the  _ one  _ thing I was worried about,” Arya said.  _ And I didn’t even know what would’ve happened if I got there in time. If they would have recognized me or accepted me.  _ Arya thought. _ I didn’t even want to think about whether they’d be happy to see me, or if me arriving would be inconvenient.  _ “Well, that’s not true, I was worried about other things, but I was mainly worried about that.”

“You were so close, you were afraid they’d be gone by the time you got there, that you’d lose them all over again,” Sansa said in understanding. “Did you know what Sandor would do if you were too late? He’d already grown fond of you by then, I assume.”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t want to think about the possibility of not making it there in time. I assumed we might be able to go after them, but they were heading for war, Sandor wouldn’t want to go there. He could have just killed me, but he wanted his ransom,” Arya said.  _ Not like any of that mattered in the end.  _ She thought. “Since we  _ were _ too late, Sandor decided to take me to the Vale, to our Aunt Lysa.”

“Wait you went to the—” Sansa started to ask.  _ Another time.  _ She thought.  _ We have time to learn about each other again.  _ “What was happening when you did get there?”

“We came with a cart of food, but the man didn’t let us in. Told us the feast was over, even though all the soldiers around us were still drinking and feasting. I had come so close, I wasn’t going to just give up, they were right there, right behind that door.” Arya said.  _ I was mere steps away from them, it wasn’t like I was going to turn around and leave.  _ She thought. “So I snuck off the cart while he talked to the man, hid behind some barrels as I approached the door.”

“You went in?” Sansa asked, her eyes wide.

“Seven hells, no. I just told you Sandor stopped me, idiot. Anyway, there were these Stark soldiers in front of me talking about going back to Winterfell. I didn’t know any of them, but it made me so happy,” Arya said.  _ It was almost like finding a piece of home.  _ She thought.  _ I felt hopeful and safe in the midst of all that grief and blood and fire around me.  _ “And then some Frey soldiers slit their throats and stabbed them.”

“Oh,” Sansa said.  _ I wish I could have helped, or been there or something.  _ Sansa thought. “You had to  _ watch  _ that? I’m sorry, I know what that’s like,”

“I’m sure you were forced to see worse in King’s Landing, Father’s…” Arya trailed off, not sure what was okay to bring up about Sansa’s past.

“And I’m sure you’ve seen worse in these past few years, done worse maybe.”

“Then I heard a wolf howl, his wolf.”  _ That really was a piece of home, Winterfell.  _ Arya thought.  _ And then it just got ripped away, just like everything else that I care about, that’s home. _

“I heard things, in King’s Landing, about what they did to Robb. Mostly from Joffrey, but people talk there. I didn’t even want to listen to them, to imagine those horrible things, but to be there...I’m so sorry you were there, Arya.”

“It’s fine, Sansa.” Arya said.

“It’s not, really,” Sansa sighed.  _ Don’t just accept that traume. _ She thought. “But we did make it back here, at least, the pack survived.”

“We did,” Arya agreed.  _ Dad was right.  _ Arya thought.  _ The pack survived.  _ “And I’m sorry for everything that happened to you. I wish I’d known, maybe I’d have come back to Westeros sooner, soon enough to stop some of those...things from happening.”

“You came, that’s what matters. And I’ve seen your scars too, Arya, I would have ripped that bitch to shreds if I could have.” Sansa looked at Arya in complete seriousness and Arya had to suppress a laugh.

“She’s dead now, anyway. And so is he.”

“And we’re not.” Sansa said. “So what happened to Grey Wind?” 

“He pushed against the cage doors, and I tried to get closer, and then,” Arya paused to finish another mug of ale, ignoring Sansa’s look of concern. “And then four men shot him. It’s like they didn’t even hear the sounds Grey Wind made as he died. Then I watched as he closed his eyes for the last time.”

“You saw him die. I guess that’s better than seeing Robb killed.” Sansa said.  _ Still not great, though.  _ Sansa thought.  _ Especially for a child.  _ “What happened next? Did anyone see you?”

“Some soldiers came walking out the doors. I don’t know what I was feeling or thinking, but I knew I had to go in, I knew Robb and Mother were in there, I knew I couldn’t come this close only to lose more of my family,” Arya closed her eyes, trying to fight back the tears. “Sandor grabbed me before I went in, said it was too late. He knocked me out so I wouldn’t see anything.”

“So that’s good, at least, you didn’t have to see—”

“I’m not finished yet,” Arya interrupted, silent tears running down her cheeks.

“Oh.”

“I woke up on horseback. They were chanting, the soldiers were. ‘King in the North! King in the North’ they kept shouting. I looked up to see—” Arya sobbed.

“Hey, it’s okay now,” Sansa pulled Arya into a tight hug, rubbing her back assuringly.  _ I won’t leave you. _ Sansa thought.  _ You’re okay, we’re okay. _ “I’m right here.”

“I looked up and...and saw Robb’s body,” Arya said, burying her head in Sansa’s shoulder as she held onto her tighter. “with his direwolf’s head sewn on.”

“Seven hells, you  _ saw  _ that?” Sansa looked her in the eye as she let go.  _ I should have been there. No, that’s impossible, I was a hostage, just like her. I wish we could have reunited earlier, I wish both of us didn’t have all of this pain and suffering and trauma to unpack.  _ Sansa thought. _ I wish it didn’t still hurt us, that healing didn’t have to be this shitty. But we’re together, at least, we’ll heal in time. _

“Aye, it wasn’t the most fun wedding I’ve been to,” Arya said, smiling sadly.

“What wedding  _ have _ you been to?” 

“Shut up,” Arya said, and Sansa laughed. “you’re awful.”

“Well, people are awful.”

“I know, we both met Joffrey.” Arya said.  _ Everything was so different back then. All our problems seem so small looking at it now.  _ Arya thought.  _ But we were children, for a time. That innocence and those small problems were taken away too quickly, and we were not summer children any longer. _

“I never could have imagined people this terrible when we were younger.”

“Yeah, you were like the worst person I could imagine.” Arya said, laughing.

“Arya!”

“I mean, not anymore, though.”

“Arya,” Sansa said, shaking her head, but Arya could see the smile she was trying to hide.

“They talked about it so casually—laughed, even.”

“Who?” Sansa asked.

“Some Frey soldiers we passed on the road. One of them, he was...he pretended to be Mother, making fun of how she screamed,” Sansa’s face twisted in disgust, but Arya retained an emotionless and distant composure.  _ I don’t know what to do when she gets like this.  _ Sansa thought.  _ She’s not my sister anymore, she’s not even a person. I wish she wouldn’t hide inside herself like this, but I know she’s trying. It’s not like we’re talking about the happiest stuff right now.  _ “When he started talking about how hard it was to keep Grey Wind’s head on his body, as if it were some craft to them, that’s when I got off the horse.”

“He sounds like Joffrey, all his laughing and taunting of the people I loved.”

“Joffrey was a weak cunt,” Arya said. “I’m sorry for what he did to you.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Sansa said. “Are you sure you want to continue?”

“Yes, we haven’t gotten to the best part yet.”

“And what’s the best part, the part I don’t like?”

“Of course!” Arya said, making Sansa smile and roll her eyes. “I walked up to them, the soldiers were sitting around some fire while that same man went on about sewing the head on. He turned around and I offered him my coin in exchange for keeping warm by their fire.”

“Why would want to do that? Wait, what coin?” Sansa asked.

“The coin’s a long story and the rest I’m getting to.” Arya said.  _ Another day, another time.  _ Arya thought.  _ When I’m ready, I hope she’ll understand. She didn’t exactly react so well last time with the faces. _

“Okay, go on with these details I never like to hear.”

“I held it out to him and dropped it on purpose so he’d bend down to pick it up.”

“Um, why?” Sansa asked.

“Oh, then I stabbed him in the neck a few times.” Arya added calmly.

“Seven hells!” Sansa exclaimed, almost knocking over their mugs. “Arya!”

“He did deserve it.” Arya reminded Sansa as she calmed down.

“He did, but, anyway, what do you mean by ‘a few times’?” Sansa asked, disapproval heavy in her voice.

“Look, imagine it’s right after you witness the horrors following the deaths of your mother and brother and this guy’s bragging about sewing a wolf head onto your brother’s dead body, what would you do?” Arya asked.

“Fair enough.”

“So, yeah, Sandor swooped in and killed the rest of them. And then we went on our way. The end, I guess.” Arya shrugged, and reached for another mug before Sansa stopped her.  _ That’s enough for tonight.  _ She seemed to say.

“Well, that was a jolly way to end the day.”

“Definitely,” Arya agreed.  _ There’s been worse.  _ She thought.

“He’s always protected us, hasn’t he?”  _ Sandor was always right around the corner in King’s Landing. I should have gone with him.  _ Sansa thought.  _ But I learned how to play the game and he went off to protect—and kidnap—Arya, so. _

“In the wars back then and the recent ones.” Arya agreed.  _ He and Beric were right there to save me.  _ She thought.  _ And now they’re both gone.  _ “You think he’d be proud of where we’ve ended up?”

“Definitely. I mean, I don’t know what he’d think of Gendry—”

“Oh, he’d call him a twat,” Arya said. “But he’d be right there at your coronation, chanting with everyone.”

“Well, Sandor isn’t here anymore, though, we’ll have to look out for each other now.” Sansa said.

“I think you’re perfectly capable of protecting yourself, especially after the battle against the dead and all.” Arya said as she stood up. “Well anyway, I told Pod I’d spar with him just about now, so,”

“It’s a bit late, isn’t it?”

“Gods, you sound like Mother,” Sansa laughed. “Good night, Sansa.” Arya turned to walk away.

“Arya?”

“Yeah?”

“Storm’s End,” Sansa said. “weren’t you supposed to leave as soon as you could ride? You’ve been better for almost half a moon now.”

“I keep in touch with Gendry,” Arya said.  _ He’s getting better with his letters.  _ She thought. “And he understands that I’d like to spend time with that obnoxious Queen in the North.”

“Ah, I’ve heard of her,” Sansa said, smiling. “But, seriously?”

“So eager to be rid of me, huh?” Arya asked. “It’s not like we’re getting married anytime soon, I just wanted to hang out with him, visit the Stormlands.”

“Sure, you two will  _ ‘hang out’  _ plenty.” Sansa said, grinning at her.

“Fuck you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to include the murder of the Freys in here but I think that'll be another chapter since I still have to write the HoBaW and the List chapters at one point. I have a long list on my phone of chapter ideas, everything from the Vale to Ramsay to Arya and Sandor going to KL, BUT if you do have specific request, please comment down below! I really hope you liked reading this, it was kinda depressing!


	8. so close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa tells Arya about her experience at the Vale. The two of them discover how close they were to reuniting all those years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah i am so sorry it took so long to write this chapter, i really hope to get the next one out sooner. this is kinda depressing, as always with the things they've went thru and anytime i mention Sandor, but anyway, I really hope you like it!

“Do you think it’ll ever feel the same?” Arya asked, her eyes wandering out the window, scanning each window and tower and stone. There were so many memories all throughout the castle, but somehow, something felt off. Arya knew it had been years, of course, but home was home, she thought. But this Winterfell didn’t quite feel like her Winterfell anymore, too much had changed with it—too much had changed with her.

“What?” Sansa asked, looking up from the tea, concerned at the distant tone in Arya’s voice.  _ I can’t force her to open up.  _ Sansa reminded herself.  _ Gods know I’m not ready to just pour my heart out to her, not with everything at least—not him. _

“Winterfell. Home.” She stated plainly, her eyes still glued to the window.

“I don’t know.” Sansa sighed, handing Arya a cup of tea.

“We made it back, at least,” Arya said.  _ That’s more than I ever could have hoped for.  _ She thought. _ I used to just want for my family to be alive, for myself to stay alive. _ “I never thought I’d be home again, especially not with family.” She looked at Sansa and smiled, before once again looking wistfully out the window.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see this place again, I even built a snow castle trying to remember each wall and battlement and tower.”

“Septa Mordane would be proud.” Arya said, and Sansa laughed.

“Well, Robin destroyed it anyway, and I might have hit him.”

“That’s our cousin.”

“Yes, he is indeed,” Sansa said. “Did you hear about his... _ attempt _ to court Lady Alla Grafton?”

“Lord Gerold’s daughter? I thought she was betrothed to Ser Andar Royce.”

“She is now,” Arya raised her eyebrow, and Sansa continued. “After spending an afternoon with Robin, she went to her father and had him arrange her marriage before a formal proposal could be made. You know Lord Grafton would never turn down an offer to make his daughter the Lady of the Vale.”

“Of course not,” Arya said. “I know Robin’s said to be, well...”

“Unsavory?”

“I was going to say a little shit,” Sansa looked at her with disapproval of her language, but also a hint of amusement. “What did he do?”

“Oh, there are lots of stories about him giving her a tour of the Vale, but I did hear from Lord Royce that Robin spilled tea in her lap, blamed her for it, tried to kiss her, and threw a fit at the dinner table,” Arya stifled a laugh as she drank her tea. “At least she’s intended for Ser Andar, I’ve heard he’s been kind to her.”

“Do you think you could ever do it again?” Arya asked hesitantly, not wanting to make Sansa uncomfortable by bringing up those memories.

“Get married? I think I’ve had enough for a lifetime.”

“Would you have if Sandor hadn’t gone to King’s Landing?”

“I—” Sansa sighed and looked down. “I don’t know, Arya, I don’t know what could have happened, but it doesn’t matter now, does it?”  _ Now that all that’s left of him is ash.  _ Arya added in her head.  _ Ash isn’t quite that romantic. _

“No, it doesn’t,” Arya said, trying to maintain her composure.  _ “You think you wanted revenge a long time? I’ve been after it all my life. It’s all I care about.”  _ He had said to her.  _ He got it. And now he’s dead because of it.  _  “But I’m sure it was hard for him to leave. Sandor hated his brother, hate and revenge, that’s what kept him going. That doesn’t mean he still didn’t care about you, about us.” Sansa looked up at her with a peculiar expression.

“Hate and revenge, that’s not what keeps you going?”

“Not anymore.” Arya replied softly.  _ “LOOK AT ME! You want to be like me?”  _ Sandor had shouted.  _ I don’t. I don’t want my revenge to define who I am.  _ She thought. _ I am not my actions. I am not defined by a list or a name or the blood on my hands. I am Arya Stark of Winterfell and I have a family, a home, a future, and the man I love. I am and will always be Arya because I will never give that up again. _

“You two travelled together for a while in the Riverlands.” Sansa said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, so?” Arya asked, taking a sip of her tea.

“So that couldn’t have been the only thing to happen to you in seven years. Why did you even stop travelling together?”

“He died.”

“Wait, what?”

“Well, I thought he did,” Arya said. “Then he turned up at Winterfell with Jon and Gendry.”  _ That was a bit of a surprise.  _ She thought.  _ Not entirely unwelcome, though. _

“Wait, so what—ah, nevermind,” Sansa poured herself another cup of tea. “Where were you two headed anyway? The Wall?”

“No, you idiot, he wanted to ransom me. You think Castle Black’s hiding gold somewhere? We were going to the Vale, to Aunt Lysa.” Sansa almost dropped her teacup in shock.

“You, you what?”

“What?”

“I…” Sansa said softly. “I was at the Vale.”

“Oh,” Arya said. _We were so close. We were so close and we didn’t even get to see each other. We were so close and didn’t even get to know the other one was safe. We were so close and then our fucking aunt went and died._ Arya sighed, knowing there was no point in dwelling on the fact. _So close, yet it took us years to find our way back._ “Why?”  
“Littlefinger took me there, after he helped escape King’s Landing. He married Aunt Lysa, he also killed her. I met Robin there, too.”

“Gross.”

“Arya!”  
“So did you help him kill her?” Arya asked.

“No, well, not really.” 

“Not really?”

“After I hit Robin, he ran away. Littlefinger came outside to talk to me, kept trying to get me to call him Petyr, as always,” Sansa pressed her lips together, and Arya could tell she was uncomfortable. “But then, he started talking about Mother. He talked about her looks, how  _ I  _ looked like her. ‘Beautiful,’ he said. And then he kissed me.”

“He  _ kissed _ you!” Arya exclaimed in shock. She was prepared for another awful thing Littlefinger had done, and she saw the way he looked at Sansa in Winterfell, but Arya never could have imagined something like that happening back then.

“Arya—”

“I will kill him!”

“You—”

“Right, sorry, I’m tired.” The two of them laughed. “What was it like?”

“Him kissing me? Arya, you’ve kissed Gendry before.” Sansa pointed out.  _ She called him Gendry.  _ Arya noted.  _ Not Lord Baratheon, Gendry. Like he’s just that blacksmith I was friends with and fell in love with all those years ago. Like he’s just my family. _

“I mean, what were you thinking when you two kissed? Like wasn’t he technically our uncle? And just generally creepy?”

“Well, yes, and it was more him kissing me and me standing there. I had always wanted a prince to sweep me off my feet, and that...that wasn’t it. But don’t you want to hear the murder part?”

“Okay, go on.”

“Aunt Lysa called me into the throne room, the one with the Moon Door. I was scared she was angry I hit Robin, but I was very wrong. She grabbed me, called me a whore, tried to throw me through the Moon Door,” Sansa took a deep breath, pulling herself away from the memory. She reminded herself where she was, that she was safe and at home. “We both had our childhoods ripped away early on, but that feeling, hanging over the edge and barely being able to see the ground below was terrifying.”

“I understand.” Arya said quietly, remembering her own terrifying experiences. Memories of sudden darkness and fear flashed through mind, and she tried her best to steady her breathing.  _ Braavos fucked me up.  _ She thought, trying and failing to lighten up. But the memories of being blinded and beaten and stabbed penetrated every corner of her mind. The feeling of jumping into that water as she bled out and barely being able to come up haunted her.

“Littlefinger came in, convinced her to let me go. That’s when he pushed her through.” Sansa said, interrupting Arya’s spiral of intrusive thoughts and memories.

“Did he have something clever to say first?”

“Arya.”

“Did he?”

“Yes,” Sansa said, and Arya smiled. “He promised her he had only loved one woman his entire life. Then he whispered, ‘your sister’ and shoved her.”

“What a cunt.”

“Arya!” Sansa exclaimed.  _ He did save me and teach me. But he also put me in danger, he harmed both me and my family. I don’t owe the woman and queen I am today to him, or to any other man who tormented me.  _ She thought.  _ Maybe ‘cunt’ is the right word to describe him.  _ “I did learn a great deal from him, from being in the Vale. Anyway, why did you ask about her death?”

“We weren’t just going to the Vale, we made it. When we reached the Bloody Gate and Sandor said who I was, the guard offered his condolences and said Aunt Lysa had died three days before,” Arya sighed.  _ So close.  _ She thought. “And so we left.”

“You were just outside the gate?” Sansa asked.  _ We were that close and she walked away—she had to walk away, and I didn’t even know if she was alive.  _ Sansa thought.

“I guess so.” Arya said. “At least the Winterfell guards let me in this time.”

“They didn’t let you in, you ran away.” Sansa said, laughing.

“I didn’t run, it was kind of pathetic, you have to admit that.” Arya smiled at her.

“Of course.” Sansa said. “After you left the Vale, is that when you thought Sandor had died?”

“Yeah.” Arya said.  _ I left him to die.  _ She corrected in her head.  _ I didn’t put him out of his misery, I just left him there. I didn’t want to kill him anymore, at least part of me didn’t want to. At least he survived, though, it wasn’t all just so he could suffer and die painfully. _

“Where did you go after that? It was still years before you’d come to Winterfell.”

“I...I left for a while. But that’s a long story,” Arya said, dismissing the question.  _ I left Westeros and a lot of shit happened there, but I did train. But that’s not a story for right now, not today, maybe not tomorrow either. Braavos was a lot, and I don’t even know how to begin with that.  _ She thought.  _ And though we’re learning each other again, she didn’t react well to the faces, how will she react to the things that I have done? I know that I am Arya Stark and that I am not my actions, but will she see me as such? As someone who has murdered entire families? The blood on my hands is never going away, but will Sansa reduce me to that? She loves me, I know, but she has little idea who I am anymore, what I went through. I don’t want to risk ruining what we’ve rebuilt so far. I don’t think I’m ready, not yet.  _ “Did Littlefinger ever kiss you after that?” She asked, changing the subject.

“...He did.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t kill him yourself.” Arya said in disgust.

“I sentenced him to death, and you executed him, it’s called teamwork.”

“‘The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.’”

“Who said that?”

“Father.”

“Well, I’m not a man, I’m a queen. And you used the catspaw dagger, not a sword.”  
“Because that’s definitely what Father meant.”

“Shut up, you know what I meant.” Sansa said.

“Whatever,” Arya rolled her eyes.  “Good night,  _ my queen _ .” She said sarcastically, turning to walk away.

“Good night, Arya.” Sansa said, shaking her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of Arya monologue, mostly cause Sansa's being pretty open about everything that happened then. I do plan on having a full on Littlefinger chapter and talk about that story arc in season 7, but that probably won't be the next chapter. On that note, I have no idea what the next chapter will be, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter and thank you so much for reading and commenting, it means a lot!

**Author's Note:**

> i have no plan for this, it's probably just going to continue to be Arya and Sansa drinking tea together. I do plan to have talk about SanSan and Arya's scars in later chapters but those will probably be up after 8x05. If the Hound doesn't die in 8x05, then I guess this will be the AU where he died killing his brother. Hope you enjoyed my random idea/drabble!


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